d e m yx
by Ellie-ellie
Summary: as long as he could live, he could be happy. : demyxCENTRIC


**d e m yx**

He played his sitar. Sitting in the white room obediently like a lonely child. He had no idea why he was there, he had no idea whether or not he was supposed to be there. He just sat there, only the sound of the sitar ringing quietly through the room. There were no windows, no doors, it was just a room. He didn't remember getting in there, he didn't know whether or not he could get out. It was just him and the room forever, just him and the room.

He never stopped playing, the music couldn't stop. He wouldn't, _couldn't_,stop until he got out. It was as if he didn't have a choice. His fingers were blistering from plucking the strings so long. He could see the images of water beings dancing around him, and then slowly evaporating in some kind of unseen heat. He'd call for them to stay, but they wouldn't listen to them. He was left alone again; left alone in a place he didn't know.

Black images kept dancing up and down the walls to the music he played. He felt that if he stopped, he would have to a pay a price. His fingers bled from the plucking, the blisters cutting into open wounds. He wanted to sleep, wanted to eat, wanted to drink something. He had no choice though, he had to keep playing, he had too. His music slowed down and he could almost feel death creeping on him. He didn't let go though, he sped the music back up, hanging onto the little life he had left. The black things seemed to be watching him. Watching his every movement, his every breath. It was then he saw their beady eyes staring at him. He had never felt that afraid in his life.

The room was twirling and he could feel his stomach eating itself apart. His plucks came slower and slower, as long as he could play one note he could still make it. His music wasn't music anymore, just notes jumbled together as a last attempt to stay alive. The black things were creeping out of the walls, waiting for him to stop, waiting for him to give up hope. He didn't though, he held on, just a little longer...

He fell to the ground, the black things pouncing on him like beasts. He didn't realize that he would probably much rather have beasts on him at the moment. He could feel them scratching at him with their long claws, digging into his skin. Something plunged into his chest and he couldn't even scream in pain. He could feel a claw tearing out his heart, slowly, painfully. He grabbed the sitar with his last amount of strength attempted to hit the thing off of him. He was gone, it already had his heart.

He woke up, wondering what had happened to him. He looked around the room, realizing it was the same white one as before. The events that had seemingly just occurred hit him, he felt down to where his heart should be. There was no beating. He quickly stood up, feeling around the walls for some way out, some kind of escape. His fingers left bloody marks, streaking the walls hauntingly. He swore he could see the black things coming out again, then realized it was only a figment of his imagination.

He fell through the wall, a normal wall, like he was some kind of shadow.

_The mind's greatest prison is itself._

He was in some kind of hallway, pure white like the room he had just left. It was lined with doors with numbers on them. Going from one all the way to...nine. It was the door he had just walked out of, the door that wasn't there before. In big bold letters were the roman numerals **IX**.

He opened the door to the room he had just exited, peering in carefully. There was nothing there. Curiosity getting the better of him, he stepped in. The room wasn't the same room he had just exited. It was fully furnished, cooler, and it had a huge window that looked out over a glistening lake. He could almost feel the water overcoming him. He turned around to leave, only to be shocked by an unfamiliar face.

"Your name, boy?" The tall silver haired man asked. He couldn't respond, he couldn't remember. He had a name, right? He whispered something quietly, something that didn't make sense to him. That wasn't a name was it?

"You will be called Demyx." The man ordered. He disappeared into a flash of darkness, leaving Demyx alone. Alone, again; why was he always alone?

He fell back onto his bed, watery figures dancing around him. His hand slowly crept up to where his heart _should_ be. How was he alive? He had so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to know. There were things that needed answers, but he was sure he couldn't ever get the answer to him.

He smiled widely, unexpectedly. He was still alive, even though he had no beating heart he was still alive and walking, moving, breathing, _existing_. That was enough for him right? As long as he could live, _he could be happy_.

**x**

**wow! inspiration is so weird!**

**Well I'll probably end up doing**

**this for the other members!**

**Reviews? Thoughts? Confusing!**

**Woohoo for not writing some romantic for once or having anything to do with any kind of pairing! BABY STEPS ELLIE BABY STEPS!**

**Reviews please!**


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